Reforging the Sword
by LadyLienDa
Summary: Hope has found a bigger purpose on Team Voltron than she had originally thought. She's embraced her role, becoming more at ease in her position than ever before. But Shiro's disappearance deals quite a blow, leaving more than one member unsure of their purpose. In an odd turn of events, Hope, who once doubted her role on the team, now must remind everyone else of theirs.
1. Chapter 1

Blood pounds in my ears as I sit in breathless anticipation, the roaring momentarily drowning out the voices of Hunk and Lance over the comms. A deafening _boom_ crashes around me, making the sturdy exterior of my ship rattle with the force of it.

 _Come on, baby._ I think, patting the inside affectionately. _Don't let me down._

The comms crackle to life once more as more _booms_ rattle my surroundings. Lance's face appears on the vid-screen to my left.

 _"_ _We're about thirty ticks to the drop zone."_ He says. _"You ready, Kolivan?"_

The Blade of Marmora's enhanced voice comes on over the comms, but his face doesn't appear on the screen. _"Affirmative."_

A second vid-screen pops up, this time with Hunk's face. _"What about you, Hope?_ "

"Whenever you are." I say, feeling a surge of adrenaline. Gripping the controls tighter, I take a deep breath and wait for Hunk's signal.

An even louder _boom_ shakes my surroundings so hard my screens go fuzzy for a moment.

"What's going on out there?" I shout into the comms. All I can see before me is the walls of the Yellow Lion's bay.

 _"_ _Hold on! Evasive action underway!"_ Yells Lance.

 _"_ _Lance, I think we just passed the drop zone!"_ Says Hunk, looking concerned. He jerks the controls to the left and I feel the tug in my gut as the Lion moves sharply, probably to avoid an oncoming laser.

 _"_ _We're under heavy fire!_ " Lance shouts. _"There's no way we can stop here! Any ideas, Kolivan?"_

 _"_ _Open the hatch."_ Says Kolivan cooly. _"We'll take it from here_."

 _"_ _You hear that, Hope?"_

"Just get me down there already!" I say, my heart pounding with anticipation.

In response, the Yellow Lion's bay doors begin to open, flooding my vision with light. As soon as they're open enough, I thrust the controls forward and my ship gently eases out the doors and jets away from the Lion. I let out a wild war whoop as my ship races with ease over the rocky terrain, making a mental note to thank Pidge for her input on the thruster design.

My scanner blips, indicating a small fleet of figures dropping like stones towards the ground. It also picks up another, much larger fleet of incoming Galra fighters.

 _"_ _Hope, are you in position?_ " Kolivan's voice comes over the comms once more.

"Right behind you!"

 _"_ _Be ready to lay down some heavy fire to cover our tails. We're going in."_

"You got it!"

I squeeze the handlebars and feel an immense sense of satisfaction as my lasers sweep across the line of Galra ships in a huge line, turning the first row to dust.

"Yeah!" I shout, swerving to avoid an oncoming laser. "Eat that!"

Above me, I can see the Blue and Yellow Lions taking on another fleet. The light blue and purple lasers are visible even in the broad daylight.

 _"_ _Hope, watch out!"_ Startled, I jerk the controls to the right just as a flash of Altean blue zaps the pesky fighter out of the air.

"Thanks, Lance!"

 _"_ _No prob."_

 _"_ _Hope, we're taking fire from those sentries!"_ Says Kolivan.

"Give me a sec!" I reply, pulling into a barrel roll to avoid another laser. "I've still got some bogies on my six!"

 _"_ _Don't get too caught up in the sky-fighting, Hope!"_ Hunk cautions. _We need you on mid-level support. Keep the attention off the Blade."_

"You got it! Just keep these fighters off my tail!"

 _"_ _On it!_ "

I gun the accelerators and pull into a nosedive, heading straight for the city.

"Take cover, guys! I'm coming in hot!"

Marmoran fighters dive for cover as I pull out of the nosedive and streak over the top of the city, mowing down the line of sentries that had them pinned.

"Oh, yeah!" I whoop, feeling exhilarated. "This thing is awesome!"

A sudden blast from the right rattles my ship and throws off my flight pattern. I'm forced to pull up and into a backflip before I crash straight into the canyon wall. One hairpin turn later, I'm left with some serious g's before I can clear my head enough to zero in on the new target. It's a large dome-shaped weapon attached to the underside of a rocky overhang that's shooting purple lasers every which way.

Kolivan's voice crackles over the comms before I can say anything.

 _"_ _Paladins! Can you hear me? We're pinned down by heavy artillery! We need air support!"_

 _"_ _Kinda busy right now!"_ Shouts Lance. _"Hope, can you take it out?"_

"I'm trying!" I shout. "Let me get into posit- _augh!_ " I break off as a purple laser shot fires from the weapon straight towards me. Biting my lip and feeling a flash of panic, I veer sharply to the left to avoid it.

"I can't get a clear shot!"

 _"_ _I see it."_ Says Lance determinedly. _"I'll take it out!"_

I pull another hairpin turn, trying to get a good angle while avoiding the lasers at the same time. It's difficult to do. The lasers are firing everywhere, at every angle. It's taking all my evasive skills to roll, bank, and dive out of the way.

"Careful, Lance!" I shout. "It can fire in any direction at once!"

 _"_ _Uh-oh!"_ Lance dives to the left as a beam shatters the rocks where his Lion was a moment later. Another laser head straight for my face and I roll just in time to avoid the brunt of it, but not before it clips the edge of my left wing, taking out the weapons on that side. A sudden coppery taste in my mouth makes me realize I've just bitten through my bottom lip.

"Guys, I'm hit! My left laser's toast!"

 _"_ _Can't you fix it?"_ Lance asks, and I know he's talking about my Olkarian technomagic.

"Not in the air!" I reply, pulling into another roll. "Don't worry about me, how's that laser?"

 _"_ _I can't get a safe angle of attack!"_ Lance yells in frustration.

 _"_ _Maybe not from the front!"_ Shouts Hunk. With the air of an expert, he maneuvers his Lion behind the outcropping, pulling back before thrusting it forward into a dive. Heavy claws spawn on its front paws and it goes into a spin, burrowing straight into the rock and out the other side, leaving a gaping hole in the dome-shaped weapon.

"Yeah!" I shout, feeling elated. "We did it! Nice job, Hunk!"

 _"_ _It appears the Galra forces are evacuating."_ Says Kolivan. I check my scanners. Sure enough, the last few fighters are fleeing the scene, trailing into the sky like a flock of startled birds.

I maneuver my ship back towards the city, looking for a spot to land. Hunk and Lance are hovering over the ground where Kolivan and his group have gathered.

 _"_ _And stay out!"_ Hunk yells.

 _"_ _Let's set them down over there and get ready for the parade."_

"Oh, boy." I mutter as I pull forward and deploy the landing gear. "This should be fun."

·

Several vargas later, my ship has been completely overrun by an army of small children, who swarm me as soon as I land. The parents are understandably a bit wary, seeing as the ship is clearly of Galran design. It was a gift from the Blade of Marmora, once they realized the potential I had as a support-ship pilot. It's small, sleek, and allows for easy maneuverability, but the markings match the glowing bluish-purple and black motif of the Blade of Marmora. Maybe I need a Voltron bumper sticker, or something.

The children don't seem to care that the ship looks Galran. Once I jump down from the cockpit and they see a human girl dressed in a mix of Olkarian clothes and white Altean armor, they surge forward, excited to see up close one of the people who fought off the Galra empire.

Once I finally escape from the wriggling mass of small hands and excited faces, I notice Kolivan and several of his group standing on the edge of the crowd. He's removed his mask, revealing purple skin, yellow eyes, and a scar across the right side of his face.

"Great job today!" I say, making my way through the crowd towards them. One of them gives me a high-five.

"How did your ship handle?" Kolivan asks. His face is stony, as usual, but the edges of his eyes are crinkled, indicating he's probably very pleased with himself.

"Wonderfully!" I reply, bouncing a little on the balls of my feet with excitement. "Thank you so much! We've been without a good mid-level support ship since Keith blew up that pod with the built-in rocket thruster. Pidge helped me upgrade the engine on this baby so it can adapt to situations with or without gravity. Flies like an Olkarian scout-drone."

Kolivan raises one eyebrow. "I take it that means it flies well…?"

"Definitely."

He nods, looking mildly pleased, although he's probably happier than he's letting on. It's just what he does.

I frown at the left wing, remembering the laser that hit the weapons port right before the end of the battle.

"Although, I'm probably going to need some help fixing the lasers." I say, scratching my chin thoughtfully. "Olkarian tech-wizardry can only get me so far."

"I'll have one of my engineers look at it after we've finished up here."

"Thanks."

I feel a tug on my arm and look down to find an excited child with brilliant blue eyes and green marking on his nut-brown skin.

"Is this your ship?" He asks. "It's so cool!"

"Yes, it's mine." I say, glancing at Kolivan. "It was a gift from some friends."

Another little girl, a few years younger, jumps up and down, trying to get my attention.

"Hello, there." I say, smiling down at her. She has blue markings and pink eyes. "What's your name?"

"Jara." She answers, flashing me a gap-toothed grin.

"That's a lovely name. My name is Hope. I hope we didn't scare you too badly."

"We hid in the tunnels!" Jara proclaimed proudly. "I held Mother's hand so she wouldn't get scared!"

"That's very brave of you, to look after your mother like that."

The other boy pulls on my arm again. "Are you part of Voltron?"

I pause. "In a way, I guess."

"Are you a paladin?"

"No." I say, chuckling a little. "But I am part of the team." At a nod from a nearby woman who I assume must be her mother, I hoist a grinning Jara up and settle her on my shoulders. She giggles. "I make sure everyone on the team is happy and healthy." I explain, hoping it's simple enough for young ones to understand. "So when one member is sad, I go cheer them up. When someone gets sick, I take care of them."

"So you're their mommy?"

I pause. It wouldn't be my first choice of words. If I had to label someone as the designated 'mom' of the group, it would probably be Allura. I'm more of a confidant – someone to talk to. If someone has any issues, I want them to feel safe enough to come and talk to me. Also, since I'm the only one besides Coran who has much experience with first aid, it usually falls to me to patch everyone up after battles and make sure the healing pods are programmed correctly. Contrary to my initial belief, Alteans are _very_ different from humans in several important areas, and it was only because I noticed an incorrect setting on the healing pod one time that Hunk narrowly escaped having all his hair fall out. After that close call, I had a good long talk with Coran about making assumptions.

But ever since Keith came back from the Blade of Marmora's headquarters bruised, exhausted, and emotionally strained, I've found it easier to step into the role of caretaker. It's not my sole responsibility of course – we all help each other out with whatever problems we're facing – but for those who find it hard to admit they need help (Keith), feel embarrassed to tell the whole team about a private issue (Pidge), or don't want to burden everyone else with their problems (Lance), I'm always available if they _do_ feel comfortable talking to me. Which isn't always. It is, however, a start. If I can help promote unity between the members of Voltron, then I'll gladly do it. I look back on the start of my chapter with the Voltron team and chuckle at my initial feelings of insecurity. I've found my place, and I'm content with the role I've found myself in, however small and insignificant it might seem.

But it doesn't hurt that I get to be a part of strike missions such as this one. Now that we're working more closely with the Blade of Marmora, I've been able to take on other duties that would have distracted Allura or one of the paladins from their own roles. Relaying information. Staying up late to wait for a transmission when everyone else is exhausted. Performing subtle scout missions when a Lion would be too conspicuous. It's the little things like that.

The rest of the day is spent in festivities. By the end, my shoulders and arms ache from carrying little kids around and my stomach hurts from all the food I've been offered. Several kids are dashing about the village, playing with little floating cubes I fashioned from some scrap metal. They shriek with delight as the cubes hover above their heads, mimicking their voices (and rude noises). I laugh. The floating cubes are an Olkarian trademark, and I love watching the children's faces light up in wonder as they watch me create them from bits of metal.

When I'm sure I've probably doomed all the parents in the village to annoying sounds and shrieks of laughter for at least a quintant, I wander back over to where Lance is showing off the lions to a bunch of giggling girls. I hear excited squeals behind me and turn to find a mob of kids heading my way. Lance takes a break from flirting long enough to laugh when he sees me struggling under a wriggling pile of excited children. They're yanking me every which way, wrapping their arms around my legs so I run the risk of falling, and pulling on my ponytail.

"Lance! Help!" I cry out, managing to regain my balance after a brief moment of panic where I was sure I was going to fall.

He smirks evilly. "Nah. You look like you're handling it."

They finally pull me to my knees and swarm me like a bunch of Olkarian mud-grubs.

"Lance, you- aahh! Oof!" A small hand yanks my ponytail, popping several muscles in my neck. "Ooh, I hate you!"

Lance only laughs.


	2. Chapter 2

Back at the Castle of Lions, the team regroups in the lounge and debriefs everyone on their separate missions. I sit next to Allura on the circular couch and listen as Hunk and Lance excitedly recount the details of our mission. Once we've brought everyone up to speed on the state of the Voltron Alliance, the talk turns to a more pressing matter – the _lack_ of Voltron. Everyone's been doing well with their Lions on individual missions, but since the disappearance of Shiro has rendered the Black Lion out of commission, the full might of Voltron is impossible.

"We don't have Shiro anymore, either." Keith says in response to Hunk's statement. "Everyone seems to have forgotten that."

Out of all of us, Keith has been the most affected by Shiro's disappearance. It's understandable. Keith was closest to Shiro, and has never fully opened up to anyone other than him. While the loss of our leader has shaken everyone, Keith has taken the full force of the blow. He's lost the one person he felt most comfortable confiding in.

The effect is that he's more moody and sullen, and more prone to angered outbursts triggered by anything from the mice to Lance's poorly-timed jokes. When he's not on the training deck, working out until he drops, he's in his room with the door shut, closed off from anyone else.

We've all taken the blow differently. Allura and Coran seem the most unaffected, but I've noticed the way Coran's eyes don't seem to twinkle as merrily as they used to, and I've seen the creases around Allura's eyes that weren't there before. Hunk's food doesn't taste quite so good anymore, and more than once, I've caught him shaking his fist at the food goo dispensers or kicking the oven door in frustration. Lance is still Lance, but even his jokes are more half-hearted and don't ring with his usual flippancy. Pidge now gets less than two vargas of sleep per night as she slaves away in front of the computer, renewing her efforts to find her family. With Shiro gone, the little hope she'd had at getting him back after the Kerberos mission has all but vanished, like a seasonal pond in the heat of summer.

For my part, I'm probably the least connected to Shiro, but that doesn't mean I don't feel his absence. I feel it whenever I see Pidge finally pass out with exhaustion in front of the computer after a night of no sleep. I feel it whenever there's silence where Lance's jokes should be. I feel it whenever I walk by the training deck and watch as Keith tears apart the gladiator in a fit of blind rage, then collapses to the floor, shaking with pent-up emotion he doesn't want anyone to see. I feel everyone else's pain as my own. On top of that, the whole incident is reminding me of how I felt when I woke up on Olkarion after the crash with a huge gap in my memory. I remember how it felt like there was a hole somewhere inside me, and I couldn't fill it no matter how I tried.

It's like that now. Seeing everyone's gloomy faces sends a spear through my heart, and I wish once more I could do more to help.

Allura sighs and folds her hands very tightly in her lap. "It may be hard to accept," she begins delicately, "but it is time to think about finding a new pilot for the Black Lion."

The silence after feels heavy and suffocating, like a blanket settling on everyone's shoulders. Keith leaps to his feet.

"No!" He says, and I'm surprised at the determination and fire fueling his voice. "I'm going to find him! Shiro is the one person who never gave up on me. I won't give up on him."

With that, he turns and stalks out the door, leaving the rest of us to sit there in despondent silence.

I see nothing of Keith until that evening's dinner with the leaders of the new coalition. I arrive in the dining hall to find the paladins all in their armor (buffed to a polish), and Allura looking as graceful as ever in her Altean finery. I look down at my simple Olkarian dress robes (gray with a dash of teal and orange) and blush.

Five leaders from various systems and planets are present, and I try not to appear nervous when Coran rings a small bell, signaling us all to be seated. Hunk appears from the kitchen, wearing an apron over his yellow armor and beaming from ear to ear. He sets a plate full of pizza rolls and pigs-in-blankets onto the table and my mouth begins to water. How long has it been since I tasted food from Earth?

As Kolivan stands and begins to explain the situation, I glance over at Keith, who seems to be very intently studying the tabletop. He hasn't moved since he sat down, and he sits so still he could almost be a statue. I wonder what's going through his head. His violet-gray eyes are glassy and sunken, but it's impossible to tell what he's thinking.

My attention snaps from Keith back to the matter at hand when I catch the word "Voltron" in conversation. Trying to appear poised and not startled, I look up and tune in just in time to hear the leader of Puig ask if they could see Voltron. I bite my lip and look to Allura. She fights back a grimace and manages to keep her face straight.

"Th-the people you see before you are the Paladins of Voltron." She says.

I watch the leader of Puig, the only one with visible irises, as his eyes pan over each of the people sitting opposite him and his companions, starting with me. I shift lower in my seat and try to look as inconspicuous as possible, as if my body language and the fact I'm wearing robes and not armor will somehow silently convey the message that Allura's description doesn't include me.

"Excellent!" He says, his smile wide. "Can they form Voltron now?"

Everyone freezes and looks towards Allura, who falters once again.

"Well," She begins, but never gets farther than that. Keith, who hasn't moved at all since the beginning of the dinner, now comes to life at last.

"We can't form Voltron, okay?" He snaps. His voice is harsh and grating, like he's trying to keep it from cracking. "We can fly the lions, but Voltron is not happening."

All the leaders gasp. Cringing, I glance at Allura for help, but she appears to be made of ice. She recovers quickly, though, and I have to admire her diplomatic skills. It's something I've been working on, though I'm nowhere near as graceful as she is. She's not entirely unflappable, however – I've seen firsthand how single-mindedly ruthless she is when someone she cares about is in danger, or how quickly she panics when she's overworked and running on two vargas of sleep. Right now, however, despite the awkward situation, she does her best to appear as calm as she can. And it works, for the most part. She fumbles for words, then tries to assuage the concerned leaders staring at her, only to be interrupted by Keith again.

"Shiro is gone!" He blurts, his arms crossed over his chest and his eyes narrowed. "He was the Black Lion, and until we find him, there is no Voltron."

Hunk is elbowing him in the side, looking nervously back and forth between him and me. Pidge leans across the table to look at me and Allura, her eyes wide. Even Lance looks concerned and Coran, from his seat beside me, tugs on his moustache and furrows his eyebrows in embarrassment.

Kolivan, who hasn't sat down since the beginning, comes to the rescue.

"The lions are still a substantial fighting force, and this castle is also a considerable weapon." He explains, his authoritative voice a calming ointment to Keith's abrasive tone.

The system leader sitting across from Pidge says in an echoing, metallic voice, "My people have been enslaved for centuries by soldiers who look exactly like you!" Although her face doesn't change much, I can hear the underlying tone of distrust and hurt in her voice.

"Yes!" The leader of Puig pipes in. "Our people have heard the legend of Voltron, how _he_ defeated Zarkon. That is what gave them hope. What are we supposed to tell them now?"

I glance over at Keith just in time to see his eyebrows twitch and his eyes narrow even further before he leaps to his feet and slams his fists down on the table, making the plates and cups jump with a metallic clatter.

"Tell them to stand up and fight for themselves!" He shouts, his voice ringing, but hoarse at the same time. "Voltron is gone!"

For the second time that day, he storms out of the room, leaving a dead silence in his wake. One could have heard a pin drop in the air that seemed thick with tension, like the sky before a storm. I glance helplessly at Allura, who gives me a discreet nod. That's all I need. Quietly excusing myself, I scoot out of my chair and slip out the door just as everyone's attention is directed to Hunk, who tries to lighten the mood by offering the food he's cooked. Whether it works is anyone's guess, because I'm already outside the door, glad to be away from all the unnerving stares and tension so thick I could cut it with a knife.

Adjusting the hem on my robes, I pause and think about which way Keith could have gone. The bridge is a possibility, although less likely than the training deck or his room. But something tells me in this particular case Keith wouldn't storm off just to go sit on his butt. He's energetic and twitchy, and after an outburst like that, he's bound to want to go let off some steam. After mentally running through a map of the castle (I _still_ get lost sometimes!), I head off in the direction of the training deck.

Keith isn't there – the room is empty, and there's no signs of it having been touched since I used it yesterday. The bo-staff I left propped against the far wall beside the control port is still there, along with the bag of dirty socks and gloves I left in a heap next to the door for Coran. Wondering where Keith could have gone if he wasn't here, I decide to check his room. The door is closed, of course, and about a dobash of knocking without hearing so much as a scratch from the other side tells me it's likely unoccupied. Frustrated, I head up to the bridge, only to find it empty. I let out an exasperated sigh and flop down in one of the paladin seats.

"Oh, come on!" I shout, my voice sounding small and fragile in the silence. "Where could you be?!"

Only when I sit up and finally collect my thoughts do I take note of a particular feature I hadn't seen before. On the command center, where Allura usually stands, a holo-screen has been left active, no doubt by Pidge or Hunk. It shows a schematic of the ship, including the lion's hangars. It's all in shimmery Altean blue, of course, but one of the hangars is flashing red, and a warning light is blipping from the corner of the holo-screen. I get up from my seat to take a closer look, feeling a sense of impending dread. I get close enough to see which hangar is flashing and a weight settles in my stomach like a lead ball when I realize what the warning means.

The bay door has been opened and the Lion is gone.

For a moment, I stand there, stunned. Then I shake my head to clear it and realize it makes perfect sense. Of course. He's looking for Shiro. Keith is so riled up right now, he needs to feel like he's doing something. He's been out with Red almost nonstop for the past few quintants, looking for Shiro, and getting more and more frustrated each time. He must be doing that now.

I sigh. Rather than trying to establish a commlink, I decide to wait outside Red's hangar for his return. I grab a vid-screen to keep me busy while I wait, and also to alert me when he comes back.

Two vargas later, the alert I've set up on the vid-screen finally starts flashing, interrupting me in the middle of the Altean book I'd been reading. I shut off the vid-screen and tuck it into my robes just in time to see the airlock's outer doors open and the Red Lion flying in. After a few ticks, the inner doors open and the Lion stalks into the hangar and sits down almost with a sigh. I wait for a few more dobashes, anxiously twisting the ends of my Olkarian robes before the Lion's jaw lowers and opens, and Keith finally appears. His helmet is tucked under one arm and he's scrubbing at his face with the heel of his other hand. When he looks up and sees me, his expression hardens and he stalks by without saying a word.

Multiple thoughts run through my head and I decide to just play it by ear and try to be sympathetic rather than demanding.

Keith is stalking purposefully away from the hangar and down towards his room. I follow behind, not knowing if I should say something and deciding to keep my mouth shut and let him make the first move. After several heartbeats' silence, he turns on his heels so suddenly I skid to a halt in surprise. His face is red and his eyes are puffy, but I don't see any tears.

"What do you want?!" He shouts in my face, his voice raw and hoarse, like a scraped knee.

"What do you think?" I say cooly.

Keith stares at me for a moment longer before turning away again, clenching his fists by his side in an effort to keep calm.

"I don't need your help." He spits.

I swallow carefully before speaking. "Your behavior in the dining room would indicate otherwise."

He snorts, sounding derisive.

I press further. "I just wanted to see if you were okay. You left in an awful hurry, and we're all just concerned about you, is all."

"You think there's something wrong with me?" Keith asks in the same harsh voice, and the hurt and anger in his voice is more apparent than ever.

"I didn't –" I begin, but am cut off by more angry words.

"None of you understand!" He cries, bitterness fueling every word. "I thought he was dead for over a year! Now suddenly he's back, only to be wrenched away again! I'm back to not knowing what happened to him, or if he's even still alive! Don't you get it? None of you have ever come close to understanding that!"

Keith's outburst is unusual – he's often assumed things about others but tends to keep those to himself. This angered exclamation and overall assumption is unnaturally presumptuous and forward of him. I wonder what has motivated this vindictive and almost callous blanket statement that disregards everyone else's (equally real) feelings on the subject. I feel a surge of frustration, almost hurt that he would consider everyone else's feelings on the matter as inferior to his own.

"That's where you're wrong." I say bluntly, rather astonished at my own gumption. I've been practicing diplomacy for quite some time now, and this approach isn't my usual one. But then, neither is Keith's, and perhaps it will startle him enough to make him realize how foolish he sounds.

"What would you know about it?" He snaps, his voice taking on a sneering tone. "You don't even remember your family."

The words hit me like a slap across the face. All thoughts of diplomacy are gone. My fists tighten and I take a step forward, and when I speak, my voice is shrill and accusing.

"Maybe I don't, but that doesn't mean I don't feel the pain of those around me!"

That stops Keith dead in his tracks. Whatever train of thought he'd had up until now is derailing, and I can see it happening.

"You're not the only one with feelings, Keith!" I shout at him. "Have you ever stopped to consider what anyone else might be going through? What about Pidge, who's lost almost her whole family? Can you imagine what it might feel like for her?"

Keith is quite taken aback, and it's almost satisfying to see him at a loss for words. I continue on my tirade, hurt and frustration bubbling to the surface, like a kettle boiling over.

"And don't you dare accuse me of not knowing what it's like! Just because I don't remember my family doesn't mean I don't understand what you're going through!"

I'm screaming in his face now. My fury is rolling off my skin in waves of heat, and my eyes sting with hard-to-suppress tears.

"How can you be so _stupid_?" I shout, my voice matching Keith's in hoarseness and raw, throbbing hurt. "Stop saying we don't understand!"

My brain seems to shut down, and the only thing that makes sense is to get away. The world blurs around me and I only really regain my senses when I'm back in my room with the door shut. Now that I'm in a shut-in space, the anger and emotion I'm feeling seems to swell and fill the small room. My hands itch from my fingernails digging into my palms, and I realize Keith's idea of going off to look for Shiro on a whim does have some merit. I feel like destroying something.

After changing into my exercise clothes, I grab my blaster gauntlets from a bag by the door and head to the training deck. The swish of cooled air as I leap and dodge around the room, the creak of the gladiator's joints, and the clang of metal on metal as we clash weapons should be working to keep my mind off things, but instead serve only to drive the injustice further to the front of my mind, so I can think of nothing else. My bo-staff is a blur of motion, and I take savage pleasure in dispatching the metal man with the blasters on my gauntlets whenever things get too hairy. Perhaps it's not a very fair fight, but I find no sympathy for the cold, emotionless face of the gladiator. I advance from level to level, more rage fueling each blow as time goes on.

A swish of fabric behind me sends my hyperactive nerves into over-drive. Without thinking, I whirl around in flurry of motion to combat this new enemy, my staff crashing down from above before I even know who – or what – is there.

 _Clang!_

My staff halts abruptly, throwing me off balance when it collides with a solid force. Keith's face is stony, like a brick wall, and his Marmoran blade is held above him in his left hand. He's stopped the full force of my blow with only one arm.

Shocked, I reel backward and we stare at each other for a moment before I attack him again, this time from the side. He parries the thrust easily, and moves in for his own attack. His movements are swift and agile, and it takes all my concentration to keep up with him. We go toe-in-toe for a while, my anger fueling each blow I make. But my anger is clouding my judgment, and eventually he has me backed into a corner. I drop my staff and slide down the wall, utterly spent.

"Not bad." He says. With a flash of metal, his Marmoran blade reverts back to its original size – little more than a pocket knife.

"Go away." I say, hugging my knees. "Can't you see I'm not happy with you right now?"

"Yeah, and that's why I came to find you." Says Keith, squatting down on the floor so we're at eye level.

"To tell me again that I don't understand?" I ask, feeling my vision beginning to blur.

Keith's gaze drops to the ground.

"To tell you I'm sorry."

That wasn't what I was expecting. I have no answer for that, so I just shrug and look at the floor. Keith shifts some more and I can tell he's uncomfortable. "Will you forgive me?" He asks quietly. "I understand if you don't want to, but-"

I cut him off with a wave of my hand. "No, no. I'm sorry, too. I yelled at you, too. You were right. Perhaps I don't understand as well as I thought I did."

Now it's Keith's turn to be lost for words. He scoots over to the wall and sits with his back to it next to me.

"I guess…" he begins, "I just…forget, sometimes, that I'm not alone anymore."

In spite of my anger (which is now quickly diminishing), I look up from the floor and meet his violet-gray gaze.

He takes that as a nod to keep talking, so he continues, shifting uncomfortably on the hard metal floor.

"For so long now, I've done things on my own. I'm self-sufficient. Then Shiro came along, and I felt like I had someone to rely on, only for him to be wrenched away by that stupid Kerberos mission. And now, just as I've gotten used to having him back…" He trails off, looking bitter and confused.

I feel a twisting in my heart, like a towel being wrung out. My eyes blur, and I blink to keep the tears at bay. "Oh, Keith!" I blurt. "I'm so sorry! And here I go and yell at you for being uncaring!"

"You were right, though." Keith says between my sniffles. "I was so caught up in my own problems I didn't stop to think about where you all were coming from."

"We're _all_ hurting." I say. "All in our own ways." Wiping my nose with the edge of my sleeve, I turn to him and look him straight in the eye. "Just promise me," I say, dead serious, "that you'll come to someone next time something like this happens, okay?" My voice cracks and I'm so overcome by emotion, it's hard to speak. I swallow and finish. "Don't keep it all bottled in."

Keith nods. "Only if you stop trying to shoulder everyone else's burdens." His eyes narrow, though this time it's from concern instead of anger. "You're hurting, too. I can tell."

We freeze for a moment, our eyes locked. I can feel my eyes blurring even more, my cheeks growing hot, and my bottom lip quivering.

The dam breaks, and I find myself clinging to Keith and crying into his shoulder. After a moment's hesitation, he scoots closer and wraps his arms gently around me.

"I'm so sorry!" I mumble through his already sweaty and now tear-soaked shirt. "I wish I could fix this for everyone."

"I know you do." Says Keith in a surprisingly soothing voice. "But none of us can, so all we can do is try and hold each other up, okay?"

I nod, still sniveling into his shirt.

"And I hope you'll forgive me for being a jerk."

I nod again, but am unwilling to let go just yet. This wasn't exactly how I thought the evening would go, but I no longer feel like there's an invisible wall between us. Well, not a big one, anyway. We stay there on the floor long after the tears dry, wrapped in each other's arms. We both stink of sweat, and the scent hangs around us like a wreath, but neither of us care. There's a kind of peace that's settled over us, and I can feel some of the tension dissipate, like the morning mist I used to wake up to every morning on Olkarion.

"Thank you." Keith whispers, and nothing more needs to be said.


	3. Chapter 3

Like one of Coran's victory dinners, emotions are jumbled and hot to the touch as we all gather in the Black Lion's hangar. The beast hasn't moved from when Lance picked it up at the end of the last battle and laid it on the ground in a half-lying-half-sitting position. Its jaw is open and its eyes are cold and lifeless. It looks…dead.

I feel a tightening in my gut that has nothing to do with the food goo I ate for breakfast earlier, and I wonder morbidly if Shiro's disappearance was simply too much for the Black Lion. If having not one, but two paladins wrenched away from it was more than it could bear. _Could_ giant, mechanical (and slightly magical) lions die?

Everyone's reactions are different. Lance, for once, looks quietly thoughtful, his expression mirroring Allura's melancholy serenity. Hunk seems frustrated. I can tell he still wants to form the head, but he's still attached to the Yellow Lion. Pidge appears indifferent, but she casts sidelong glances as Keith every now and then. Keith himself is on a hair trigger – like a single wrong move will cause a blowup. The tension is roiling off him like steam off a boiling kettle. I can tell everyone's a bit concerned for him, especially after he revealed Shiro's wish that Keith succeed him as leader. The knowledge had affected everyone differently. Lance had been skeptical, Hunk and Pidge sorrowful and empathetic. I realized a lot of his reaction had been tied to his feelings about the whole matter. It seemed like he thought that if he accepted Shiro's wish for him to be leader, it would be like accepting that Shiro was really and truly gone.

Coran seems the most relaxed, but that's probably because he's the only one out of all of us who's not presenting himself to the Lion. His role in the group is simple and uncomplicated, and he already knows that it likely won't change.

I'd been surprised when Allura asked me to try and bond with the Black Lion, just like everyone else. It hadn't occurred to me to count myself as a possibility. I'm not even a paladin! I'd pretty much accepted my place as the healer and helper of the group, not one of the major fighters. I'm the invisible piece, existing quietly in the background.

But now, as I look up at the Lion, I feel a sense of potential and opportunity, but also trepidation. What if I'm the one the Lion bonds with? I feel completely at ease with my role in the team, but that would all be upset and I'd have to come to terms with a new purpose all over again. In some ways, I felt anxious, in others, excited. Even though I'd been content with my role as a _not-_ paladin, I'd always wondered what it would be like to be one. To have a mystical Lion-partner and to fight as part of a larger whole. Is it wrong to wish for that, even though I'm already content?

We take turns with the Lion, starting with Allura. She emerges a few moments later, looking saddened, but still hopeful. Pidge and Hunk are quickly convinced they aren't meant for the position of leader. Lance takes longer than the other three put together, emerging at last with a grumpy and exhausted sigh.

"It's no use!" He snaps, pouting like a young child. "The Black Lion hates all of us!"

"Hope, Keith, you're our only hope now." Says Coran. With everyone's eyes on me, I look uncomfortably over at Keith, who shrugs.

"Ladies first." He says, and I'm left with no choice but to approach the Lion. The cockpit has a melancholy atmosphere, like a hole has been left in the wake of Shiro's absence, and in a way, I suppose it has. The seat feels strange and big, and my arms barely reach the controls. I close my eyes, unsure of what to do.

"Um, hi?" I say tentatively, my voice sounding small and hollow in the closed-in space.

 _I have no idea what I'm doing._ I think to myself. But after a few minutes, I get up and exit, feeling an odd sort of peace as I leave the sad cockpit behind. It just wouldn't feel right to be the leader of this team. The great and noble Black Lion deserves a born leader, someone who isn't so concerned with helping and propping everyone else up.

I wonder, though, as I leave the Lion, what its quiet rejection of everyone else means for Keith, who still hasn't presented itself. And if he _isn't_ chosen, what this will mean for the rest of the group. A small flame of curiosity wakens in my mind, and I entertain the thought, however fleeting, of perhaps piloting the Red Lion if Keith is, in fact, chosen. I blink and it's gone.

 _And just as well, too._ I think. _Fancy me, a paladin!_

Keith is silent and ashen-faced as he approaches the Lion, looking like he's headed towards certain doom. He chances a glance towards me as he walks forward, and I catch his eye, hoping to convey a sense of support. And it seems to work. He squares his shoulders and a bit of confidence returns to his previously empty eyes.

I'm not sure whether it's a relief or a surprise when the Lion's eyes suddenly blaze to life and it straightens up, letting out a deafening roar of triumph. But at the same time, I feel a sense of dread as the Lion bends its head to reveal Keith, who walks slowly down the ramp looking like he's just swallowed a doo-flax whole.

"I'm proud of you, Keith." Says Allura, all smiles. "I wish you were getting the job under better circumstances, but congratulations."

Pidge and Hunk both express their own compliments. I murmur something in agreement, but I'm not really paying attention. My eyes are flicking back and forth between Lance and Keith. I didn't miss the look on Lance's face when the Lion lit up at Keith's presence. He's quieter than usual, and the look on his face is one of jealousy and disappointment. Keith's face is still stony, but then his eyes narrow in denial.

"No." He says quietly. "I don't accept."

There's a collective gasp. Now instead of looking disappointed, Lance looks concerned. So does everyone else. I take a deep breath, silently affirming in my head that this is exactly what I was afraid would happen. Keith is in too much turmoil right now to fully accept the role of leader, and the fact that Shiro is gone.

"Keith, you must!" Says Allura earnestly. "The Black Lion has chosen you."

"I can't replace Shiro!" Keith retorts. His voice cracks a little, signaling he's reached his emotional limit. "You guys were right, I'm the loner. I'm not the leader Shiro thought I was."

A spear of pity stabs into my heart at this statement. I don't have time to dwell on it for long, though. Before I can move or open my mouth, Lance has stepped forward and placed his hand on Keith's shoulder.

"Keith, no one can replace Shiro." He says, dead serious. "But the Black Lion wouldn't choose anyone it didn't think was worthy." His eyes narrow in that odd look of jealousy and disappointment again, though it's masked by concern. "I respect its choice. And you should, too."

Keith nods, his expression unreadable. Then he turns and half-glances behind him at the Black Lion.

"But who's going to fly the Red Lion?" He wonders aloud.

"I thought I wasn't a paladin. Why am I even considering the option?"

Allura sighs. "Because we need a new paladin."

"But I just found my role in this team, and I like it. Why get my hopes up?"

"The same reason I'm trying."

I tear my gaze away from the face of the Red Lion looming over me to Allura, whose lovely face is now creased in concern. She sees my raised eyebrows and smiles sadly.

"We're both a part of this war. We both have different roles. But given the chance, wouldn't you want to do more to help?"

"That's just it." I say, hugging my arms around my middle. "I just got done convincing myself that my role is important, that I'm not just extra weight. Why should I be wasting my time trying to be something else I'm not?"

Allura bows her head, seemingly collecting her thoughts before speaking. "On Altea, many of our alchemists adopted the idea of not defining themselves by any one perception. The idea was, if they defined themselves by something, they would have no room to grow or change." She shrugs. "The concept has a few flaws, but the point is, don't be too quick to find a definition to dictate your life."

I bite the inside of my lip, trying to process what Allura's just said. On the one hand, it makes sense. But on the other hand, my whole life is full of definitions. It's how I make sense of the world.

"But that's just it!" My voice takes on a slightly shrill tone as emotion begins to overwhelm me. "I've spent all this time trying to _find_ a definition, something to hold onto! I have nothing else! How am I supposed to grow and change if I don't have any place to start?"

"I cannot argue with that logic." Says Allura. "But all I'm saying is, be careful of setting too many limits on yourself. Use your definitions as a stepping stone."

I shake my head. "I still can't see myself as a paladin." I say firmly, putting my hand on her shoulder. "Maybe my role in the group has grown, but I don't think flying a lion is the right thing for me."

A small, sad smile blooms on Allura's face. "I see."

"But don't let that spoil it for you." I say. "Who knows? Maybe this is _your_ stepping stone."

Allura's smile brightens. She straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath before striding forward. Soon she's swallowed up by the great beast, who sits patiently in the middle of its hangar.

I turn and exit, allowing the two some privacy. Something tells me I should leave them in peace, at least for a little while. As I head up the hallway toward the elevator, I feel a self-assured spring in my step. I'm confident that I've made the right choice. But there's still a burning curiosity in the back of my mind, wondering what would have happened if I'd tried to bond with the Lion, if I'd opened myself up to the possibility, like Allura had said.

Shaking the thought away, I instead focus on getting up to the lounge, where I know everyone else will be. Now isn't the time to be worrying about my own problems. I've got enough of them already.

But apparently, I cannot escape the whisper of curiosity, the gentle, burning flame that asks, _"what if?"_

Once Allura appears in the lounge a few minutes later, looking like a flower that's been sat on, I realize I'm unable to ignore that whisper any longer. Once we all break and go our separate ways, I quietly steal down to the Red Lion's hangar again. It's with some apprehension that I approach the mighty beast.

The cockpit is the same as Black's, in essentials. But there's an overwhelming essence of Keith that lingers in the way the seat is adjusted and the grips on the handlebars are worn, like they've been grasped too tightly too many times. I close my eyes and try to imagine a bond, or at least a presence. For a moment, there's nothing. But then, just as I'm beginning to feel frustrated, I feel a whispering consciousness at the back of my mind, like someone waking from slumber.

 _Hello?_ I think tentatively, unsure of how to proceed.

 _What are you doing here?_ The voice startles me, and nearly breaks my connection. It's not unkind, merely curious, and sounds so alien and powerful. I'd never imagined the Red Lion, which is known for its impulsivity and energy, to have such a quietly contemplative voice. He sounds as though he's been woken from a long nap, and is wondering, in a vague, offhand way, why his rest has been disturbed.

 _I'm sorry._ I reply. _I didn't mean to disturb you._

I can almost imagine the Lion yawning. There's a swelling sort of feeling in my mind that vanishes after a few ticks. _You are Hope._ Says the Lion without preamble. _Keith talks about you a lot._

 _Does he?_ I ask, faintly surprised. There's a rumbling murmur that's almost like a chuckle.

 _Indeed. You are an important friend to all of the paladins. How nice to finally meet you._

 _I am honored you would speak with me, Red Lion._ I say. _Frankly, I just came to satisfy a curiosity._

 _I can understand_ , says the Lion simply. _You wonder what would happen if you did become a paladin._

Shocked by the Lion's clarity on the situation, I manage to make out some reply, before wondering what else I ought to say - what else I'm still trying to figure out. Perhaps he can put it to words better than I can.

There's a warm feeling that's almost like a purr. _Little one_. He says in a surprisingly gentle tone. _What exactly are you trying to prove?_

 _That's just it. I don't know. I thought I was content with my role. But am I?_

 _Just because you have a curiosity doesn't mean you aren't content._ Says the Lion affectionately.

 _But how come I'm feeling so confused? Is it wrong to wonder what could have happened?_

 _Not at all. But I suggest you not dwell on it too long. Focus on the present and the opportunities you have before you. Your fellow paladins are also going through much turmoil._

 _Does that mean I should bottle up all my own emotions and focus on everyone else? You saw how well that worked with Keith the other day!_

 _Little one._ Purrs the Lion. _You cannot pour from an empty glass. But when all else fails, trust your instincts. You have very good intuition – it comes from your mighty heart. Keep doing what it tells you, and you won't have to wonder what would have happened._

"Thank you." I reply out loud, feeling more peaceful than I have in ages. The Lion purrs in response, then yawns again. As I get up to leave, a sudden thought crosses my mind. If Allura obviously wasn't chosen, and it isn't my path to be a paladin, I can't help but wonder who will pilot Red.

The Lion snorts playfully. _You'll see._ He says mysteriously.

 _See what?_ I persist, but the Lion is already settling back down to sleep. Or whatever sort of sleep giant, magical, mechanical Lions have.

The presence withdraws from my mind, leaving it full of a renewed sense of drive, of purpose.


	4. Chapter 4

Taking the Lion's words to heart, I make an effort to listen to my moral compass – my intuition, as I interact with the others. It's something I've always been conscious of, and it's allowed me to be who I am as part of the team. But now that I'm actively paying attention to it, I realize I'm even more aware of what signals everyone else is giving off.

I discover Coran is actually very good at disguising fatigue, and once I've figured out the signs that escape his carefully crafted outer shell, I'm able to suggest from time to time he let me take over a particular repair or cleaning job so he can take a much-needed nap. Hunk is very tolerant and forgiving, but even he gets tired of the constant chatter and noise everyone (especially Pidge and Lance) generates during meals and hanging out in the lounge. By engaging with the others in games or conversations, I allow Hunk to slip away to the kitchen for some peace and quiet. The more I focus on what my intuition is telling me, the more I notice what everyone is hiding from the rest of the team.

Allura's countenance is usually carefully controlled to appear poised, but I can detect a kind of melancholy disappointment behind her words. I know how dearly she wanted to pilot the Red Lion.

I manage to catch her alone after supper one quintant, just as she excuses herself from the dining room to turn in for the night. When I ask her how she's doing, she replies in a voice barely hiding her fatigue and sadness.

"I'm quite alright, Hope. Thank you." She says.

"No, how are you really?" I persist.

Allura seems to melt before me, her regal posture slumping like a light being dimmed. She seems more transparent now that her façade has washed away, and I see she's just as exhausted and confused as the rest of us.

"I-I just don't know what to do." She says, her voice a soft whisper in the still air of the hallway. "I know it always looks like I do, but in truth, I'm just as clueless as all of you. Shiro may have been the leader, but I'm the one who's making all the big decisions." She looks down at the ground, closing her eyes against a glistening wetness building under them. "It's just so hard. I feel so hopeless, like this war is doomed to fail."

"This is about the Red Lion, isn't it?" I ask.

She nods. "Partly, yes. But Shiro's disappearance has affected all of us, not just Voltron."

"We are _all_ part of Voltron." I say. "Whether we pilot a Lion or not." Remembering what Red had said to me when I asked him about the missing pilot, I try and offer some encouragement. "Shiro disappearing has dealt a crushing blow. There's no doubt about that. But maybe there's something we haven't thought of yet. Perhaps the Lions have another trick in their fingertips."

Allura raises her eyebrows quizzically at the idiom.

"Sorry." I say. "I guess that's an Olkarian one. It means they might have an idea they haven't revealed yet."

"But how?" Allura wonders. "Neither of us have been chosen by the Red Lion, so how can the others form Voltron with just four lions?"

"I have no idea." I say frankly. "I won't pretend I have all the answers." I reach up and place my hand on her shoulder. "But that doesn't mean we give up. We keep fighting. Somehow, some way, we'll get by."

"I wish I was as good with people as you are, Hope." She says. "You've come so far since we first met you. You've become such an important part of this group."

"But it takes all of us to make this team work." I say. "And we need you, Allura. Even if you're not meant to pilot a Lion, you are by no means unimportant. Remember, you started this whole endeavor. None of us would be here if not for you. You represent Voltron, whether you pilot a Lion or not. You give people hope. That's what this is all about. Hope."

Allura smiles then, a real, true smile without any sadness behind it. "Hope." She repeats, an uplifted expression on her face. "You're right. Voltron isn't just a weapon. It's a symbol."

"And you further that symbol."

"Thank you." She whispers. A fresh tear slides down her nut-brown cheek, although I can tell it isn't from sadness anymore.

And like a broken instrument or tool being repaired, I can tell the group is beginning to heal.

It isn't easy, though. Keith still remains closed-off and distant, even though the rift between us isn't as wide anymore. But being chosen by the Black Lion has only worsened Keith's already volatile emotions, and he continuously lashes out whenever someone makes a rude joke or even mentions Shiro' name. It feels like the group is walking on eggshells around him.

Then the Blue Lion unexpectedly locks Lance out right as the castle is attacked by a Galra cruiser. Puzzled, Allura heads down to the hangar to see what's going on, leaving me and Coran to offer tactical support and fly the castle, respectively. When the Blue Lion accepts Allura and Lance moves to Red, I'm not sure whether I'm more surprised or relieved.

 _Is this what you were planning, Red?_ I wonder.

But Voltron isn't what it once was, not with three out of five paladins in new Lions. Lance is unwieldy in Red, Allura is completely inexperienced with piloting a Lion, and Keith isn't used to Black's controls. On top of that, he struggles to lead the team. I still root for him from the castle's bridge, even though I bite my lip and cringe more than once at his lack of leadership skills.

"Why the quiznack does he think going after Lotor is a good idea?!" I say to nobody in particular as I watch the Lions head off towards Lotor's cruiser. The mice, who've found their way to my shoulders in the absence of Allura, squeak indignantly, as if in agreement.

Coran sighs. "Keith must know what he's doing." He says, though he sounds as though even he doubts his own statement.

"He obviously doesn't." I murmur, bringing up a live feed from the lions on Allura's holo-screen. It feels weird to be standing where Allura usually does, even though I can't actually fly the ship. "If he was thinking at all, he'd know this is a trap!"

Coran and I both watch the video feeds from the lions as a single fighter engages them, and we cringe more than once at how easily the fighter toys with them.

 _"Well, that was embarrassing."_ Lance exclaims over the comms.

No kidding!

Keith then orders the group to follow Lotor's fighter to a planet called Thayserix. This prompts some complaining, but Keith doesn't seem to care.

"He's putting the whole team at risk!" I exclaim, opening up a comm.

"Keith, don't do it!" I shout. "This is just what Lotor wants!"

 _"Ugh! Stop yelling at me, everyone!_ " Keith snaps. _"I know what I'm doing!"_

The comm is cut from his end, seemingly to signal the end of the discussion. Without further ado, the Lions take off in the direction of Thayserix. Coran and I are left on the bridge with nothing but a few video feeds to let us know what's happening.

"Ugh!" I yell, stamping my foot in exasperation and worry. "They're just going to get caught! Lotor's just toying with them! Why can't Keith see that?!" I turn to Coran, who looks like he just swallowed an entire vat of food goo. "And now what are we supposed to do?" I ask him, waving my arms in the air. "We're sitting doo-flaxes out here! Can't we go help them?"

Coran shakes his head. "I'm afraid we can't. Thayserix's atmosphere is too unstable for the castle. If we went there, we'd never get out again."

The lead ball of dread drops into my stomach. "Then what about the Lions?!" I ask, my voice betraying my worry and fear.

Coran's eyes go wide in realization, and he dives for the comms. But before he reaches them, the vid-screens showing the Lions go fuzzy, then cut to black, like a cord being unplugged.

"No!" I shout.

"Hold your yelmores!" Says Coran, his hands flying over the keyboard. "I've got an idea. We can't track the Lions, but we can still prevent them from being ambushed."

"Huh?" I ask, my overwhelming worry momentarily halted.

Coran points to the visual of Thayserix – the only visual reading that's still transmitting. On one side of the planet, Lotor' Galra cruiser can be seen creeping up on the place the Lions were when they went offline.

"Smells like trouble." I say, feeling calmer with the prospect of having something to do.

"Exactly." Says Coran. "But we're not going to just sit here and wait."

"Are we going to attack the cruiser?"

"No, but we're going to be prepared for when _they_ attack. Unless something terrible happens, the Lions will eventually surface. The fact that that Galra cruiser is there means they're likely planning to attack once the Lions appear."

"And we'll be ready to attack _them_." I say, feeling a grin spreading across my face. "What do we do?"

The atmosphere in the dining room later that quintant is electric, full of energy and celebration. Who would have thought the group had been able to form Voltron, after such a chaotic start?

Everyone's impressed with Allura. She's risen from being awkward and clumsy with her Lion to unlocking a new weapon in only a few vargas. What happened on Thayserix was more than anyone could have guessed.

"I suppose we should be thankful to Lotor." Hunk says with his mouth full of food goo. "If he hadn't led us into that trap, we wouldn't have formed Voltron."

"Yeah, and Allura wouldn't have bonded with her Lion the way she did." Pidge chimes in.

It's the most joyful we've been as a team since Shiro disappeared. Everyone's ecstatic over having beaten Lotor and overcome the trap he'd led them into on Thayserix. The return of Voltron is cheering for everyone, and I can tell it's put a certain part of everyone's mind to rest.

But there's an underlying sadness as well. No one can fully mask the obvious lack of Shiro, and though Voltron can now be formed by the current setup of paladins, no one can deny the fact that it doesn't feel quite the same.

Keith is like a hollow shell of himself. His face is carefully blank, and his eyes are dull and glassy. He picks at his food, and hardly speaks more than two words the whole evening. Once the meal is done and everyone heads off to bed, I wonder whether I should speak to him, or whether he's better left alone.

It's impossible to sleep. At first, I think it's just the residual energy from the craziness of the last ten vargas, but soon I realize it's concern. The rest of the team might be riding high on victory, but Keith hasn't been himself at all since Shiro disappeared. I cannot ignore the gut feeling that something isn't right. Getting up, I throw a poncho over the Olkarian robes I'm wearing and quietly steal out the door. I have a sneaking suspicion that Keith won't be in his room, and I'm right. My bare feet hardly make any noise on the polished metal floors as I slip through the silent halls filled with strange nighttime shadows.

I reach Black's hangar and am met with silence. The great beast lies in the center of the room, like it's asleep. Its jaw is slightly open and its chin rests on its huge metal paws. It isn't a position the Lions normally take, which means I've probably found Keith.

The Lion doesn't jump to life and eat me as I climb cautiously up onto its paws and into its mouth, so I take that to mean it doesn't mind. I crawl up into the hatch into the back of the cockpit and find Keith curled in the pilot's chair, hugging his knees and staring listlessly at the floor. He doesn't look up as I approach the chair and crouch down next to it.

"Keith?" I whisper, my voice cutting through the melancholy silence like a knife. The sadness fills the small space, hanging over its occupants like a toxic mist, stifling all other emotions.

Keith doesn't reply for several dobashes. Then he shifts slightly away from me and curls into an even tighter ball.

"Go away." He mumbles, but I can tell he doesn't really mean it. "I don't want a lecture."

"How about a friend?" I ask, chewing on my bottom lip. "No one should have to suffer alone."

Keith doesn't answer, but I can see his eyes growing misty. A single tear drifts down his cheek.

My heart melts like a wax figure on a hot day. I move to the front of the seat where Keith sits and hold out my arms, inviting him for a hug. Another tear escapes his violet-gray eyes and he swings his legs around to the front and leans into my open embrace.

The pilot's seat isn't really meant for two, but I still manage to worm my way next to him anyway. We sit there for some time, Keith trembling with pent-up emotion as I rock gently back and forth. There's no need for words, at least not now.

Time seems to slow, and we very well could have been sitting there for a few dobashes, or several vargas. Neither of us have moved – Keith still slumps exhaustedly in my arms and I wonder vaguely if he's fallen asleep. The air is still and wrought with emotion, but no longer stiflingly sad.

Different words float through my head, all of them silly and unnecessary. Keith obviously _isn't_ okay, and it's no use saying it will all be fine when I know just as muc has he does. Which isn't much. Plus, Keith has always preferred silence over spouted nonsense. With that in mind, I tighten my grip and let the silence continue.

"M'sorry, Hope." Keith mumbles through my shoulder.

"Hmm?"

Keith shifts a little. "I'm sorry, Hope." He repeats. His voice cracks and he coughs a little. "I'm not the leader Shiro thought I was. I can't lead everyone the way he did."

"Well, I'd be surprised if you could." I say. "Seeing as you're not Shiro. You're you. And you have a different way of doing things."

"I just don't know if I can handle the pressure." He says, sitting up and looking at me with glassy violet-gray eyes. "I don't think I'm cut out for being a leader."

"Perhaps not." I say, although it breaks my heart to do it. But I've always preferred honesty instead of sugar-coating. And yes, Keith's leadership kind of sucks, but it's not for lack of trying. He's never been in such a position before.

Keith looks almost hurt, averting his gaze downward. "Wh-"

"Because once again, you're not Shiro." I interrupt. "I'd be surprised if you _weren't_ having problems. We've all been under stress lately. You more so than any of us."

I shift in the seat and look him straight in the eyes. With some reluctance, he meets them again.

"But don't think for one instant that you have to bear it alone." I say firmly. To confirm my support, I tighten my arms and pull him back for another hug. Keith goes limp against me, and I can feel my shoulder growing wet from tears soaking through the thin fabric of my robes. The cockpit lapses into silence once more, although it's peppered by sniffles as we rest in each other's comfort. He's not the only one crying. Tears are leaking from my eyes, too.

There's a short series of chirps that startles both of us out of our thoughts. An alert has popped up on the surface of the main window. Keith lets go again and sits up, scrubbing at his eyes with the heel of his hand before blinking sleepily at the screen.

"What's that?" He asks, his voice still sticky and croaking from crying.

"It-it says the ship's proximity alert has picked up a signal." I say, reading the mass of Altean text as it flashes. "Lone Galran craft, small. SOS ping active." I finish with a puzzled look at Keith, who's staring glassily at the alert.

"What's a fighter doing so far out here? There's nothing but open space!" A flutter of hope begins to surface in my heart. Could it be?

I lick my suddenly dry lips and turn to Keith again. We're still sandwiched together in the pilot's chair, and I can feel his heartbeat increase in speed, becoming wild and erratic. Mine is, too.

"Could it be?" I ask, my voice a breathless whisper.

"Only one way to find out." Says Keith, and I slide out of the chair and move to stand behind it as he takes the controls and maneuvers the Lion out the hangar and into open space.

"Don't worry, Shiro." I hear him say. "We're coming. Just hold on."

A quick biorhythm scan confirms our wild, desperate hope. The single craft is barely chugging along, with its fuel tank almost empty. But it's here, and so are we.

Keith's eyes glisten with tears, although they're happy ones.

"Guys, we've found him." He says.

And I instantly know things will be alright.


End file.
